


Give You The Moon

by BlueBamboo



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Anarchy, Anger, Descent into Madness, Despair, Drama, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Lost Love, Pining, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBamboo/pseuds/BlueBamboo
Summary: Leaving behind a particular part of Arthur was the hardest thing Joker was ever going to do... Especially when she was the thing that meant the world to him.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Original Female Character(s), Arthur Fleck/You, Joker/Original Female Character(s), Joker/You
Kudos: 12





	Give You The Moon

Anarchy ruled the broken, ablaze streets of Gotham now. 

As far as the eye could see, fire swept across the streets in the form of sophisticated home-made petrol bombs, rag torches and explosives. He could see it all from the tinted windows of the cop car as they sneaked through the warren of roads at a snails pace. Lights flashing, but no siren blaring. It would've been pointless to waste precious electricity reserves when the sirens simply wouldn't be heard over the resounding din. The newly born Joker sat there, handcuffed hands dropped between his splayed thighs. His make-up no longer perfect, smeared trails of inky blue trailing down the sharp curves of his cheeks, vivid green tresses now in disarray, framing his structured face as he revelled in the pleasing sight. 

The Destruction.

The violence.

The mayhem.

And, of course, the madness.

And it was all thanks to him and his shocking actions. 

Maybe Murray hadn't deserved what Joker deemed he did. Perhaps Joker, at the time, still had far too much of Arthur seeping through, clinging to the fragments of a shattered illusion in the hope he would finally get what he deserved. He wasn't Arthur. Not anymore. With his forehead lulling against the cool window pane, he couldn't help the slight chortle rising up his gullet. For once, it wasn't forced. He watched through wide, white eyelash rimmed eyes as people baring clown masks, his face, burned the hell city to the ground. The dull orange sparks enraptured him, demanded his attention. 

He laughed. 

Free, and no longer marred by ailing mental-health, fury or pain. He laughed like he was free as a bird. Like he was privy to some incredible secret no-one else would ever know.

In a twisted way he was.

"Stop laughing you fucking freak, this isn't funny..."

The cop driving had been peering at him disapprovingly in the rear view mirror for the last few minutes. Alternating between glaring at him, shaking his head and returning his attention to the road. Joker guessed the guys sense of moral finally won out.

"The whole fucking city's on fire because of what you did!"

He surveyed the many unfolding scenes with a very slight, almost unreadable smirk. Mischievous green eyes flickering back and forth before landing on the officer before him. Joker gave a gentle, satisfied sigh. Leaned his torso forwards to press his cheek against the rough black wire mesh separating him from his arresting officers. 

"I know..."

Came his throaty response. 

"Ain't it beautiful?"

And then... Blackness engulfed him. He couldn't recall further than that. Not how he escaped the police car, nor how he somehow clamoured onto the bonnet of the car where he must've passed out. The metallic taste of blood thick and heavy on his taste-buds when he came around. He gave a slight cough, a thick, iron like substance blocking his airways. Briefly he choked before coughing it up. Reflexes not allowing the blood to pass any further down his throat. 

A slight groan escaped him. Both head and vision woozy and uncertain.

Blood oozed from a wound buried in his hair line, meeting with the flowing stream from what he guessed was a broken nose. 

Slowly, he rose now aware of the crowds surrounding him, growing further with each second that passed. When he managed to reach his full height the gathering reached the end of the street thick and overflowing around the corner. With deep rattling breaths Joker eyed his audience.

His people, his followers. 

Pride.

He felt proud. For the first time, he truly felt adored.

The blood on his face was clumping, he could feel it thick and gloopy on his cupids bows. Gently pressing his middle and index finger against the sticky skin he pulled back slightly, studying the blood on his fingers with great intensity before his other hand rose to his mouth. He hesitated only briefly before a smile melted across his features. Smearing the substance across his cheeks in a over enthusiastic smile.

And that's when he saw her.

A familiar, beautiful face peering up at him from the sea of bobbing heads. Her blood red hair was dishevelled. Cascading around her shoulders in thick ringlets.

Zoey.

How could he forget about his sweet, beautiful Zoey. After all, he'd done this for her... Tears streamed down her alabaster face. Her wide, expressive silver eyes boring into him. She held his strong gaze for several minutes. It seemed never-ending, until she broke the connection between them, turning her back to him and pushing her way through the crowds. Joker's heart stopped.

Arthur wasn't dead. Not really.

"Zo.."

His voice was small, barley a whisper.

_"Artie... Why didn't you tell me?"_ S _he was soothing him, ghosting an antiseptic soaked rag across his bruises and cuts in the changing room of Ha-ha's._

He called for her again, this time his voice harsher. Carrying over the heads of the cheering crowds. She paused, the only briefly, keeping her back towards him. Joker leapt from the car. His suit jacket swishing as the crowds parted for him. 

A strut. 

It was a newly adopted gait but suave and he hoped, sexy. 

She'd stilled, her back still facing him, her gaze locked somewhere he couldn't make out from his position behind her. He halted mere millimetres from her, the light feminine orange blossom fragrance of her perfume invading his senses rendering him woozy. 

"Why? Why this?"

Her voice was small, a mixture of confusion and hurt laced through it. She remained stoic, flinching slightly as he laid his large palms gently upon her shoulders turning her slowly to capture her wondrous silver gaze. Deep within he could feel his heart tearing apart. Joker swallowed the new collection of blood, nimble fingers slipping down her arms to settle of her slender waist, before she could react he'd swept her up into his arms, ignoring the cheers from the crowds as he strode, finding an abandoned café a few streets down he kicked open the door which was already hanging from its hinges. Stepping into the dark eatery and setting her backside down upon the wooden serving counter. His intention had never been to cause her pain. 

Not ever. 

"I had no choice, darling."

Zoey noted his voice, though it was the same voice made raspy after years of cigarette abuse it was different at the same time. The tone, pronunciation and octave had accent had shifted.

"You had every choice, Arthur... You didn't have t-"

She was shushed by his blood clad index finger pressed gently against her lips.

"Arthur's dead..."

He mumbled. Allowing his fingers to nimbly trace her structured jaw. The same jaw he'd pressed loving kisses against only 24 hours ago. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, the only ray of sunshine in a bleak and cloudy world. And now, he was letting her go. He was no longer the man she loved. He was a wild, violent man born to avenge. Nothing about this new him would be good for her. 

That didn't mean this new man loved her any less than his predecessor... But it was the reason he had no choice but to let go. She was his sole weakness. The only thing he would cave for. And for a man like Joker having a woman as his weakness was a dangerous thing. He couldn't bear the thought of having her brutalized dead body sent to him in a cardboard box. She was studying him intensely, her lips parted slightly, the tears had dried. Leaving a smudged trail of mascara in their wake.

But she looked like heaven to him. 

"No, not dead... Just evolved."

A small smile spread across her lips, her fingers slithering up over the solid expanse of his broad chest and shoulders to tangle in his emerald locks. Joker's mouth pressed gently against hers, seeking permission to deepen their kiss. She granted it by gently flicking her tongue against his lip. And he was done for, they melted into one another. Garments were quickly shed and strewn across the café. The cries of their passionate final union drowned by the riots beyond the shop.

For hours they lay, her preparing herself for the inevitable, him roughly a single word away from letting his emotions get the better of him. He supposed he should've been grateful she wasn't fighting for them to stay together. He couldn't deny that it made the whole situation sting that little bit more, though. She was asleep now. Right side of her face nuzzled into his now dressed armpit. 

One last kiss he pressed against her lips.

One last inhalation of her seductive perfume.

He placed a small paper envelope beneath the hand splayed across her chest. Tucking it slightly into her bra.

"Remember me, my love."

_On the grassy hill beyond the theatre they lay, the night, apart from the occasional car engine and heavy set of footsteps in the near distance, was silent. The moon was full, bathing them in its mystical silver-white glow. They'd been talking for hours, the conversation steady and comfortable._

_"I'll give you the moon, one day."_

_He said with a smile, tugging her lithe frame close. Her chuckle was enough of a reward._

_"And how do you propose to do that?"_

_"Well, throw a lasso around it, of course."_

When she awoke, she was alone. To be honest, Zoey hadn't expected him to stick around after. With a heavy heart she sat up, fresh tears threatening to fall. Jumping down from the counter something clattered to the floor. Landing between her discarded boots. 

A small, brown envelope.

Bending down to retrieve the letter she slipped her boots back on, turning her attention to the entrance door. It remained open and Zoey briefly wondered if they'd had an audience last night, she hoped not. Preferring not to linger on the thought she slowly left the confines of the café. Out into the early morning. The streets were bare, mobs and rioters retreating back to their families. A whispy haze of smoke had settled through the streets, floating across the entirety of the city.

He was no-where to be seen either.

She tore open the envelope with a sniff. 

_'I didn't need a lasso for this one... Remember me, my love.'_

_Always,_

_A_

There, when she peered into the envelope, peeking out from amongst an array of glittering silver chain was an exquisitely detailed, hand cut copper full moon.


End file.
